Who's To Blame?

There's a responsibility implicit in every act. By choosing to engage in life, we accept that our choices will have consequences, even when we consciously deny them. We are of the world and we are defined by the actions we take as surely as by those we don't.

This isn't about blame or guilt. Such concepts are constructs of society, attributes of culture. Animals probably don't understand guilt. Plants certainly don't, nor rocks. But they live by the same rules of causation that all of us do.

So yes, Mother, I broke the dish, but is it really my fault?

The Broken Rose

Scott retraces the events of that evening to understand what went wrong. Candles were lit. Dinner reservations at Jen's favorite restaurant. A dozen red roses.

The evening now over, all his plans in ruins, trying to lay blame seems besides the point. Telling himself that he was innocent of any wrongdoing doesn't change the fact that not only has his girlfriend of exactly five years walked out on him forever, but has also resulted in his house being destroyed and his car being driven over a cliff.

A single broken rose is all he has left to remember her by.

Broke

Bills. They stacked up like a child's art project on the kitchentable, each stamped red with the word "overdue." The house wascrumbling down, the wallpaper peeling off every panel. The wallstrembled as the couple screamed at each other. Blame flew likehousehold objects; lamps, chairs, and plates.

They stormed off in a huff to the same bedroom, facing away from eachother, their faces too hot and hearts beating too hard to sleep.

So they stayed awake, until the sunlight streaked in through thebroken blinds and the couple was ready to start the routine overagain.

From Guest Contributor Artie Kuyper

Wear Me Down

The shavings scattered as he coughed, revealing how little actual progress had been made in the last thirty minutes. The brace still protruded from the floor enough to be noticed.

His wife's admonishments occupied him as he filed. It was always her way, whenever she made a mistake, to look for any way to shift the blame elsewhere. Better still if she could pin him as the culprit. So when she'd tripped on the uneven joining between the foyer and kitchen, she yelled at him. Who cares the house had come that way.

He'd given up fighting back decades ago.

The Stakes

They sat across from each other at their favorite restaurant and it seemed everything was at stake.

She fussed with her rings and he rubbed at his tattoo and they said everything except the truth of their despair. It was easy to pretend their worlds were crumbling into ruins when what they really needed to say was that life had become a burden. It would be easier on their own but each wanted the other to blame and so they spun their lies into spit and tears until they realized nothing was at stake any longer except their favorite restaurant.